The Pin
by HungerGames226
Summary: A oneshot - Haymitch Abernathy had never really noticed Maysilee Donner. She was a town girl and he was a Seam boy, simple as that. However, their relationship begins - along with the Second Quarter Quell.


****A/N** ****Hey guys, just something I wrote to let off some steam. I was feeling creative. This is basically a 3rd person view of Haymitch and Maysilee's relationship, before and after the Games. Oneshot. I hope you like it! **

**-Logan  
**

Before his life-changing experience in the 50th Annual Hunger Games, Haymitch had never took notice to Maysilee Donner. She was a silly, arrogant town girl who could afford to worry about what she did with her wheat-colored locks the next day at school, or which dress to wear to the reaping in which she had little chance of being drawn.

Haymitch had more important things to worry about, coming from the Seam, and brushed that Donner girl off like a mosquito that landed on him.

But Maysilee had always noticed Haymitch. She admired his strength and determination from afar, fearing her girlfriends would scold her for finding a lower-class boy attractive. But she felt bad, watching him sit alone at the far end of the lunch table with little to eat, while she and her friends giggled and fawned over each other's boyfriends while eating their delicate sandwiches and slices of cucumber and honey on crackers. She stared at him with a certain longing that can only be explained through experience.

From the instant they were reaped, Maysilee Donner knew she must protect Haymitch.

He had a chance of surviving, although the chances are twice as slim. He was strong and stubborn and would simply survive because he _refused_ to die. She wanted him to win and live a happy life in the Victor's Village; although it meant they couldn't be together. Of course, she realized that she would probably be dead in a matter of days anyways - minutes, maybe - but she must help him get farther.

* * *

The time came when they entered the arena. The gorgeous, but deceitful arena was planned specifically to distract the children from their true goal - to stay alive. Maysilee was not able to grab hold of Haymitch, as he left immediately, and she was able to snag a small backpack nearer to the platforms after a majority of the tributes woke up from their daze when the gong rung.

Maysilee was instructed to run straight away, as the tributes from 12 usually died in the Bloodbath, but she knew she could do it. After, though, she ran with her single backpack to the mystical forest, where the azure blue sky shone through the treetops, casting a mesmerizing shadow on the soft green grass. After running for at least half an hour, she examined her pack and found the supplies given. Two dozen darts with a blowing tube, and a couple small packs of food. She sighed and put the pack of crackers in her lap, and rested her head against the tree. She was afraid. Very. And she wasn't even fighting for her own life; she was fighting for Haymitch's.

Her time came three days later, when she heard a cannon. Somehow her instincts told her Haymitch was behind it. She poised from her makeshift bed, alert. It's when she heard Haymitch's athletic grunt when she hurriedly packed up and bolted.

Sure enough, Haymitch was at the outskirts of the forest, on his knees, his life in the hands of one of the last Careers. He was about to slit the District 12 boy's neck, when Maysilee dipped her dart in a supply of poison - she found it from the lethal fruit that hung in the forest - and directed it into the Careers' back. "We'd last longer with the both of us," she said meekly but sure of her words. When he responded in the affirmative, she blushed, and her heart fluttered. He shook her hand on the word "allies" and she was reluctant to let go, however, Haymitch insisted they wasted no time and kept moving.

"What do you expect to find?" Maysilee would ask impatiently every now and then. Haymitch either wouldn't respond, or when he did, with a simple "I don't know." Maysilee sighed and took a sip of her precious water-bottle, with the carefully purified stream water. They walked for two days until reaching the edge, a cliff overlooking a misty abyss.

"That's all there is, Haymitch. Let's go."

Haymitch stood firmly on the ground and said no.

Her stomach clenched, but she knew it was time. There were only five of them left, and they both knew they needed to break it off. She said it out loud, and Haymitch stiffly said okay. She turned and walked.

* * *

Maysilee didn't exactly see the artificial-pink birds. No, she did, but she had seen them before and thought nothing of them. But when one struck her back and sent her to the ground, she shrieked.

The flock appeared at once, attracted by the sound of innocent screams. They pierced through her body with the long, narrow beaks. The last one was in the neck.

Haymitch was there in no time flat. He held her hand as she drifted out of the world, her final breath taken, her last words spoken. He wanted to cry when her cannon sounded and her body went cold, her soft, dirty hands stiff and lifeless. He closed her eyes for her, not wanting to see them open but not functional, and took the golden mockingjay pin off her black tank top and left.

Because Haymitch had grown to like her. Love her, even. She made good company and she was good at surviving, good at eliminating the competition. She was sweet and fair and felt sympathetic for Haymitch, and she never got to tell him she felt that way about him, too. She had achieved her goal though, she got Haymitch closer to the end, saved his life when he thought his fate was in the hands of the Career boy.

She died painfully and happily at the same time, the conflicting feelings not confusing her at all in the face of death. Because when you're about to breathe the last lungful of air of your life, everything falls into place. It's as if everything that confused you before disappears, and you understand why life is such a beautiful - but wretched - thing.

Haymitch won for Maysilee. He kept the pin in his hand the whole time he fought the District 1 girl, Envy Soulante, and that gave him hope. _Win for her, _his mind told him, _it's what she would want._

So, really, Maysilee helped Haymitch achieve Victory even after her death.

* * *

Haymitch Abernathy had never really liked Effie Trinket much. Her upbeat attitude and compulsive punctuality annoyed his sloppy lifestyle. She thought he was lazy; she really did. But what was actually happening was something no Capitolite would ever feel: Pain. He felt awful inside and she didn't understand pain or guilt or bad conscience, and Effie's feelings towards Haymitch would never, ever be returned. He could never love another girl like Maysilee. Haymitch drank to wipe out the memories of her death.

Maysilee, whose name read clear and sweet like the songbird she once owned. Maysilee, who blushed at the smallest things and could make anyone smile. The girl he lost. His life he kept. But he couldn't help thinking he wasn't really living - he thought he was just tolerating life. He didn't enjoy any day at all. Not without Maysilee. Not without his mother and brother, who were killed by the Capitol. And certainly, the children he was unable to spare each year didn't help things at all.

Every time he saw Katniss with the pin, he took a swig of whatever he had on hand, trying to ease himself so he didn't hurt anybody. Katniss was a survivor, just like him, unlike Maysilee. Katniss wasn't supposed to survive and neither was he. That pin had been in three arenas: one of Haymitch's, two of Katniss's. The pin had been faced with life and death before, but it always came back. Haymitch just couldn't shake it.

But maybe, he realized, he wasn't meant to shake it.


End file.
